A Question of Honor
by Victoria LeRoux
Summary: When Will is found poisoned and dying, Halt may be the only one who can bring hope to the apprentice. Father/Son, Will-Whumpage,
1. The First Shot

_Story Summary: When Will is found poisoned and dying, Halt may be the only one who can bring hope to the apprentice. Father/Son, Will-Whumpage,_

_Info for the chapter:  
War Games- a game devised for training._

_Time setting: Sometime after Halt's Peril, but on major spoilers_

The figure cloaked in a mottled green raised his longbow, sighting down the shaft of the arrow. It was only a few seconds until he could release the shot, but those few seconds felt like an eternity. He was used to that eternity however. He was used to the anticipation, the readiness, and the thrill of watching the arrow slice neatly through the breeze that grazed his cheek. The archer gave one last adjustment to his shot, and released it, watching it fly through the night as if it were the shot that would begin a war.

The arrowhead embedded itself in the throat of its target, and the deer fell, stumbling to its knees where it keeled over, dead. Behind the archer, a horse gave a low snort, amused by the shout from across the clearing.

"Great shot Halt!" from behind the bushes, a tall, stocky-looking teen rose, his eyes shining with mischief. On his back strapped a sword, and behind him was a battle horse, its coat gleaming as if even dirt was afraid to land on its hair.

From beside the archer- Halt was his title- stood another teen, his eyes dancing with relief that they had managed to find provisions. This teen however, was shorter, his face less ready to expression. "Horace," Halt's former apprentice began wearily, but Halt cut him off, raising a hand suddenly.

"Will, to the trees," Halt ordered, and without question, Will scaled the tree, his body flying up until he was comfortably nestled in the branches. Halt gave a small gesture to Horace, who instantly pulled back into the bushes once again, his horse following a few paces behind. Halt heard the whisper of movement that signaled Horace mounting the battle horse, Kicker, and the Ranger melted back into cover. There was nothing he could do about the fallen deer.

For a moment, the clearing was just as it was before- empty of Rangers, horses, and knights. Then it stirred.

Three mottled figures emerged as if from nowhere. Their horses made no sound for the moment as the three mounted men rode closer to the deer.

"Halt and Will were here," the leader of the group murmured, sighting the arrow still embedded in the deer. "Probably still nearby, if they left their-"

At that moment Halt released the arrow he had placed on his bowstring. The bolt sent the middle archer flying from his horse. Simultaneously, Will dropped out of the tree, landing on the shoulders of the lead rider as he drew his saxe knife, holding the leader at knifetip as they fell from the saddle and sprawled on the ground.

The last rider in the group made to draw his bow, but a single stroke of Horace's sword threw him out of the saddle, where he raised his hands in surrender.

"I'm never going to win against you, am I Halt?" Gilan asked merrily, holding his back as he stood, a grin dancing across his merry features.

"Never Gilan," Will told him impishly; lending the Ranger that he had defeated a hand up. "So why does Crowley see a point to these war games?" The youngest Ranger raised an eyebrow towards Halt, who as typical of his personality, ignored him and turned to Gilan.

"Gilan, have you run across any other bands?" Halt asked, his dark eyes searching the forest for any sign of movement even as he retrieved the blunt arrow that he had shot towards Clarke, the ranger of Seacliff.

"Just Crowley and Meralon. We managed to shoot Meralon, but Crowley escaped," Gilan shrugged, glancing towards Clarke.

"I say you Ranger's just shoot Crowley so we can get the exercise over with," Horace mumbled, ignoring Halt's raised eyebrow at his comment.

Halt turned away, surveying the scene. "Where are the nearest caves?" Halt left unspoken the need for cover and a new plan.

"Just south of us," Gilan interjected, walking over to where Blaze stood patiently. As the small band of Rangers, and the lone knight accompanying them, prepared to ride out, Halt continued to survey the land with a critical eye.

"Will, you lead point. Gilan, fifty meters behind. Each of us spreads out. Crowley will be impossible to hear, so we will allow the horses to follow us. Clarke and Horace, stay with the horses. Skinner, follow behind," each Ranger moved quickly, moving rapidly to follow their assigned tasks.

Will slipped through the trees, ahead of the rest. Occasionally, he paused to allow Gilan to come within sight of him, but mostly he jumped ahead, keeping a wary eye out for any unfriendly men- Ranger or commoner, noble or priest.

However, for all Will's wariness, he never noticed the figure slipping after him, almost invisible to the naked eye.

"Come on Ebony," Will muttered quietly to the pup trotting after him, even as he paused to kneel down as place her into a sling arranged carefully on his back for that very purpose. "Silent girl," he ordered the small dog. At once, she froze from where she had been shifting impatiently on his back, well-trained enough to fall as silent as a grave at his command.

As Will paused, the figure crouching in the bushes behind him paused, readying a crossbow as he watched the Ranger speak to his mutt. The Ranger appeared to be tired, for he moved slower then he would normally, occasionally snapping twigs underfoot, for all his training to be a ghost in the night.

The assassin paused carefully, pouring a small bottle of filmy liquid over the bolt, spreading it carefully with the use of his gloved hands. The Ranger's stalker shuddered at the thought of what the mixture would do if it contacted bare skin.

As the Ranger before him- Will, that was the boy's name- paused, surveying his surroundings, the assassin froze once more, pulling back into the trees. As the Ranger turned around again, facing away from the assassin, the man slid out of the cover, releasing the bolt from the crossbow.

The shot would have been magnificent, if it had flown correctly towards its target. Instead, the Ranger turned and stood in the midst of the shot, checking behind him for enemies once more. Instead of thudding into the middle of his back, right below the puppy where it had been intended, it thudded into his leg, sending the boy to his knees with a cry of pain.

"Halt!" Will shouted, his yell ringing through the forest as Ebony climbed loose from her sling. The dog stared in dismay as her master collapsed weakly to the ground. Instead of waiting to nose him impatiently, the dog sprinted off towards her master's friends, even as her master lay in the dirt, blood spreading below him as poison coursed through his veins.

Even as Will screamed again and an assassin slipped through the forest, fleeing the Rangers' wrath.

_Author's Note: Like it? Hate it? Tell me! Leave a review! This is my first RA story, but expect many more. I'm hoping for six reviews on this first chapter, but I'll settle for just a handful!_

_Explanation: (if you're facing confusion) the Ranger's are playing a war game, where they pit against each other and see who survives. When "killed", they join the band of whoever killed them. Will was just shot by an unknown assassin. Ebony is the dog given to him at the end of Halt's Peril. (great book)_

_And yeah. Will just got poisoned. Can't wait for the angsty whumpage! Expect loads of it._

_Oh yes, finally! Title suggestions?_

_Final note: A/N will be shorter. Chapters will be longer after this one_


	2. Within the Barren Woods

**A/N/Disclaimer: Don't own, although I did receive a very nice email from Mr. Flanagan, who won't tell me where the Gathering Grounds are! If you anon want to leave an email so I can give you a response, just let me know and I'll do so.**

**Chapter Dedication: Laura. (I did well resisting the cliffhanger looming, eh?) Thanks for being my idea bouncer-offer!**

_A QUESTION OF HONOR_

_Chapter 2  
"Within the Barren Woods"_

It wasn't often that the forest's canopy was disturbed by raucous birds frantically lifting free of the forest tops, and nor was it often that Rangers, so famed for their witchcraft and deadly silence, abandoned that silence in favor of haste.

So today was just one of those days- one of the days where everything that appeared to never be able to happen happened, and what should have happened didn't even dare raise its head in hope of being acknowledged.

The second that Halt heard Tug's frantic calling was the moment when Halt realized something wasn't quite what it appeared. Everyone knew that Ranger horses were trained to silence, and each Ranger in the near vicinity dropped the friendly competition of the war game, threw their blunted arrows aside, and instead readied their longbows in deadly earnest to unite against the perceived threat.

Tug called again, and Halt froze, drawing back into the shadows as he heard something small and light dashing through the bushes toward him. As Tug called out a third time, sending a chill down Halt's spine, a small shape hurtled itself towards the Ranger, who instinctively caught it.

The grizzled veteran of many wars stared in disbelief at the quivering pup, whose mismatched eyes were wide and dilated with fear as she nestled close to the Ranger, whimpering slightly.

"Ebony?" Halt was familiar with Will's faithful companion. Ever since Trobar- the towering half-giant who owned Will's previous dog, Shadow- had given Will the puppy, the two hadn't been separated. Ebony was too well trained to wander off, or flee from danger, and yet she came straight to Halt at the same time Tug began to panic. As Halt reflected on this, he absentmindedly stroked Ebony, his eyes skimming through the bushes as the small group of Rangers and a single knight began to draw together.

"Halt," Gilan's voice was muted and tense, all traces of former levity vanished in the blink of an eye. "She's covered in blood."

Gilan was right- the pup's mottled black and white coat was flecked with still-moist red, slicking down parts of her fur as Halt fondled her ears. He almost dreaded to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue.

"Where's Will?"

It was Horace who dared to ask the question- Horace who almost casually gave voice to their fear. However, no one could address the concern for at that moment, they heard a scream- faint, but still a scream full of terror and pain. Seconds later, another scream followed, leading Tug to pull his reins from Horace's hand and begin to move away from his position between Kicker and Blaze, his path instantly altering to follow the source of the noise.

"_Halt!"_

It was nearly impossible to make out the name amongst the pain and pure terror in the faint sound, but Halt would recognize that voice anywhere. Almost methodically, Halt caught Tug's reins, ignoring the warning glare from the shaggy pony. Nimbly, Halt rose bareback on the horse, quirking an eyebrow at the others.

"Look, shout, shoot," his mutter was audible to all the Rangers, and they nodded, despite the unusual circumstances. It was rare to have such a great amount of Rangers in one place- thirteen were scattered through the forest, in all- along with the single knight who was appointed to train with them due to his position in the Special Corps.

Their going was quick, despite the circumstances. As Rangers, they were all protective of their own, and the thought of one of the close-knit group being injured with a dozen of them nearby didn't sit well with them. They were also fond of Will, his easy-going and cheerful manner over the past years having endeared him further to the group.

Everything in Halt screamed at him to run to Will. He couldn't stand the idea of his former apprentice lying in the cold, alone. Halt knew there was a very likely chance Will was dead, but he wasn't going to admit it.

Halt numbly urged Tug to move faster, ignoring the danger to himself. Somewhere in the back of the Ranger's mind, he was aware that whatever had harmed Will might very well be chasing after Halt as well. Behind Halt, he could hear Kicker's hoofbeats thrumming the ground. The grizzled Ranger allowed a grim smile- Horace was also throwing caution to the winds.

The two reckless warriors let their mounts have their heads. Kicker tossed his in high spirits, but Tug restrained himself. The little horse snorted grimly, his instincts guiding him to where his friend lay in the dirt. The other Rangers still moved by caution and not ruled by emotion as Halt and Horace were, fell behind, their going delayed by safety.

Halt and Tug were the first ones to reach the clearing. They could see the place where Will must have hit the ground- blood had collected in that spot, the greedy grit lapping up the crimson. A single set of bloodied pawprints lead back to where Ebony had found Halt and the others- those would be the pup's from when she had raced to find help. Will had obviously fled once he had regained his feet because the blood trail led towards the edge of the clearing. Halt took all this in at a single glance, his well-trained instincts telling him how slowly Will was moving. One leg had to be injured from the way one of his feet dragged on the ground- half of the trail was a smeared mess.

Halt gave Tug a small signal as the Ranger swung from the pony's back. The irritable pony snorted angrily, but remained still, allowing Ebony to jump to the ground. Will had trained her well, Halt noted. Even when Tug had switched his pace quickly, the pup had kept her balance in front of Halt, just behind Tug's neck.

A sudden crash in the trees had Halt slipping into cover, his bow materializing in his hand as he notched an arrow. However, he didn't let it fly, because in that instant, Will fell forward from the undergrowth and collapsed back in the clearing where he had started.

"_Will," _Halt breathed just as Kicker trotted into the clearing. Horace swung down from his saddle and ran to Will, expertly checking his friend for injuries. Horace frowned as his hand came back to him sticky from blood. Will was injured yet, but not as heavily as his actions suggested. A crossbow bolt was embedded near the top of his thigh, but it shouldn't have provoked the expression of terrible pain that was on Will's face as he weakly thrashed under Horace's grip.

Halt couldn't move, he was frozen in place by the dread that was filling him. He had failed Will, just as he had failed Will when Erak's crew had captured him. Except this time, it was worse. Halt had been barely a distance from Will, and now his former apprentice was… dying.

Horace seemed to realize the depth of what was going through Halt, just as he had realized what went through Will when Halt was poisoned. Quickly, Horace took command. "Halt," Horace wasn't gentle in his tone, but stern instead, his voice ready to deliver orders. "I need your help. I-I think this bolt is poisoned, and we need to remove it before it increases the damage further."

Horace's words seemed to reach Halt distantly, and the Ranger pushed away his sudden moment of panic, realizing that self-incrimination wasn't going to help Will. Was this how it would feel to have a son? Halt wondered grimly as he moved quickly beside Horace. "Pin him down," Halt told the knight, who nodded and moved to restrain Will as Halt lit a small fire. The fire wouldn't matter, whoever had struck Will already knew where they were, and it would help the other Rangers arrive more quickly. Automatically, Halt began to heat the tip of his saxe knight, letting the flame lick the edge of the blade. Hopefully the heat would kill anything that could further harm Will. When Halt judged the blade warm enough, he cut through Will's leggings, his breath catching as he caught sight of the wound.

The blade didn't seem quite warm enough, Halt realized distantly as he examined Will's injury. Calmly, Halt inserted the blade into the edge of the fire once again. "Horace, do you have any warmweed with you?" Halt asked calmly as he narrowed his eyes at the injury. It was already swollen and an angry-red, the Ranger realized. Infection shouldn't have set in so rapidly, so Halt knew Horace had spoken the truth. The bolt was poisoned.

Before Halt could give himself a chance to further hesitate, he made a small incision in the wound, giving himself just enough room to pull the bolt out smoothly. Will, supposedly too weak to scream, gave a low whimper, and Halt felt a stab of agony in him.

He had failed Will, again. The thought nagged at him, and the Ranger gave a slow, shuddering breath as he sat back, watching Horace begin to wrap a poultice of warmweed and other infection killing herbs around the injury. Each warrior in the kingdom carried his own kit of field medicine, and it seemed that Horace kept his in pristine condition so that he could use it instantly.

Ebony, forgotten by knight and Ranger, moved forward so that she crouched below Will, a low whine coming from the back of her throat. Just as her mother, Shadow, had done in the past, Ebony laid her head in Will's lap, her small tail thumping softly on the ground. Halt watched her for a few moments, then turned away to glance at Horace. "Get the others?" the words might have sounded like a command, but Halt's tone made Horace think of it more in terms of a plea. Horace couldn't refuse. He had never seen Halt so rattled before, so he turned and remounted Kicker, moving away from attempt to find Gilan and the other Rangers.

Beside Will crouched Halt, his eyes both unwavering and troubled as the Ranger rethought over the day, struggling to recognize if there was anyway Halt could have foreseen or prevented this.

Will's breathing was labored and heavy as he struggled to fight his way to consciousness. He could sense someone near him, but he couldn't claw his determination into allowing his eyes to open. The pain was so absolute that Will wanted to give in, but his attempt to escape whoever had harmed him only wounded him further. But Will had to wake up, he had to warn Halt who was going to attack him.

Will thought that he had caught a glimpse of his attacker as he fell, and if it was who the image stirred in his mind, Halt needed to know.

Halt himself was unaware of the battle going on in Will's body as he waited in silence. Will had to be poisoned, because his actions were implacable in every other way. If Will was poisoned, Halt knew that the Ranger could do little for his apprentice. He had to find a healer, but he couldn't tear himself away from Will. The indecision was unfamiliar to the Ranger, but so was the helpless feeling in him. Halt took a deep breath, knowing panic wasn't going to help Will now. Slowly, the indecision and helplessness faded away, and Halt no longer felt like the time he had been an apprentice himself.

So Halt did what he did best.

Halt began to plan.

_A/N: Sorry, this chapter was a bitch to write. Well, expect bi-monthly updates, and please excuse me for the lag between these chapters. I had four papers due in the past couple weeks, not to mention I had to take seven exams, four of which were advanced. So as I said, I'm sorry for this absence. Thank you for all the lovely reviews- I just now read them all, because I was too ashamed to do so earlier! Review replies will be sent out as soon as I have internet access for longer than five minutes (I'm on a trip!). Who else is excited for John Flanagan's new series that's going to be out in a bit?_

_Thank you to all who reviewed_**_: anaduri _**_Esmerelda Diana Parker**Linguisticsrock** __Gun toten Girly**Legolas Thranduilion **__spookisapuppy**thedarkscareslittlekids **__HelloSweetyMerryChristmas**lol2107 **__Bek-K**Mythowolf **__ Dragon-Wolf-Mustang Rider** shizune19 **__TsukiHoshiAsa_**__**************************************** fox **_and_**__**************************************** Ninjaaa**

**__****************************************If I forgot your name, apologies. If there are any mistakes, feel free to point them out. Thank you to all who reviewed, faved, and watched. I'll do my best to post around Christmas, and please review, I appreciate it more than you know!**


	3. It Started With An Alright Scene

**Disclaimer: Don't own. I just like hurting Will.**

_A QUESTION OF HONOR_

_Chapter Three  
"It Started With An Alright Scene"_

"_Don't draw from the shoulder, you should feel the draw through the muscles in your back," the cool voice of his mentor pierced his concentration, and Will nodded, adjusting his aim slightly. He hadn't needed the reminder, but it was nice to know that Halt did care. The shot flew true, and the Ranger nodded at his apprentice. "Good," Halt praised Will, and then he raised a critical eye. "The deer is a little small, isn't it?" _

"Halt!_" Will protested, and then blushed as he recognized the joke._

_Halt shook his head, glad that he could still catch his wary apprentice off guard. "Set up the camp, I'll take first watch." Halt promised, and Will scuttled off to obey. Halt quirked a small smile as Will turned away, then it faded. In just a few months, Will would be graduating and off to his own fief. It was going to be hard to let him go._

_Will was unaware of the thoughts going through his mentor's head at the time, so he innocently began to prepare their campfire, not a thought as to what would occur in the months to come. Perhaps if Will knew the sequence of events soon to follow- Erak's random, Alyss' capture in the north, Malcolm, the Outriders and Halt's brush with death- Will would have enjoyed this subtle peace a bit more, but now-_

A jolt of pain went through Will as he was thrown out of the pleasant memories. A low gasp slid through his lips, and he found himself shuddering for breath, his heart racing. Will felt clammy, feverish, and he couldn't imagine why. A low, dull pain came from his leg, but overshadowing that was the piercing feeling of _wrongness_ in his body. Will raised a shaking hand slightly off the bed as he was flooded with the memory of the bolt piercing his leg, and two imperious, cold, deadened eyes staring at him, telling him something…

_Halt! He had to tell Halt, the man with cold eyes, he knew him, he had seen the tall figure before! _The flash of memory was an unwanted intrusion to him, but a necessary one as his confused thoughts began to organize.

"Halt_," _Will forced the word through his weak lips and scrambled slowly to try to lift himself from the bed, his eyes flashing. "_Halt," _the name sprang, bidden from his lips, but no one was around to hear him. Will once again weakly moved his arm, searching for any object that could help him pull himself from the bed. In his desperate search Will accidently bumped against a north-seeker, sending it crashing to the ground as the small plate of glass protecting the magnet shattered.

The crash in the other room caused Halt to drop his mug of coffee and curse as the scalding liquid burned his foot. However, the pain was forgotten as Halt realized the significance of such a noise. Quickly Halt nudged the spilled cup to the side, rushing into the adjoining room.

Will was awake, that was the first thing Halt noticed. The former apprentice's eyes were glazed over from the pain as he tried to push himself off of the bed. Halt frowned and moved quickly to the side of the bed, gently pushing Will flat on the mattress. "Will, don't try to get up," Halt ordered briskly, glancing over the younger man and frowning as he took stock of Will's physical condition.

Will seemed to be much weakened after spending just two days unconscious in the bed. They had brought Will to the small cabin on a litter, knowing that it would be a place where he could recover. None of the Rangers had voiced the fear that he may never recover. Each day Halt had gently spooned broth into Will's mouth, knowing that the man would need all the strength he could get to fight whatever poison was racing through him. Alyss would be glad to see Will awake- she had learned of the attack on Will just yesterday, and she would be reaching the area today. Despite Will's apparent consciousness, Halt still found himself fretting, knowing that when Halt was poisoned just a few short months ago, Halt had often awakened.

"Halt," Will whispered, and Halt was pulled back into the present. The Ranger found himself kneeling by Will's bed, Halt's hand gently on Will's fevered brow. The Ranger felt his happiness slipping- obviously Will still had a long road ahead of him. "Halt, it's…" the words were seeming to be difficult for Will to speak. "It's him Halt," Halt frowned in annoyance as Will glanced over at him, the former apprentice's eyes glazed with pain. "Halt, I saw him, you have to warn the others!"

Halt shook his head slightly, watching Will in concern. It was obvious that the fever was making Will delirious, because Will wasn't making any sense. Seeming to sense Halt's doubt, Will pressed harder, reaching for Halt. "Halt, you have to understand!" his voice, though frail and soft, was firm with conviction. "He's come back for you Halt." Those words seemed to leech away Will's remaining energy because the msn withdrew his hand, his sides heaving with exhaustion.

The Ranger pulled back, his mind racing. Will would be mistaken- yes, but something else tugged at Halt's memory. "Rest Will, I'll take care of it," he reassured Will bemusedly, and he could see the younger man relax, his eyes closing just in time for his body to be racked by a cough. Halt rushed to elevate Will as Will seemed to cough, and he kept coughing.

Halt felt any hope he had vanish as he noticed bright flecks on blood on the cloth Will was coughing into.

* * *

The figure clothed in white raced her horse though the countryside, her two men-at-arms keeping pace beside her with difficulty. She had received a message just yesterday, and instantly rushed to prepare for a quick flight. Halt had sent her a missive- short, brief, and to the point.

The note itself was alarming in its curtness. It simply read _Will poisoned. Come quickly. _In the past, Halt had always had sent information to Alyss through Pauline. Halt directly contacting Alyss meant that something was seriously wrong, because when Alyss had spoken to her mentor, she had received nothing more than a look of puzzled worry, then acceptance when Alyss requested to be released from training a student to go to Will.

Alyss gently dug her heels in her mount's side, gaining an extra burst of speed. She felt a tinge of guilt over how hard she was driving her retinue, but she couldn't stand to delay a moment when it might mean Will's condition worsening. Alyss rounded the last bend before the cabin that was previously Halt's, but now belonged to Will. As Alyss slowed her horse to a canter, she heard a joyous sounding bark from the bushes as a small shape shot out of the bushes to race next to Alyss. Alyss slowly reined her horse in, swinging herself gracefully out of the saddle as a quivering bundle of her greeted her. Ebony was delighted to see a friendly face, Alyss realized distantly as she leaned down to fondle the pup's ears. The two mismatched eyes stared up at her as the pup's tag wagged fiercely.

The sound of the cabin door opening was the only sign of Halt approaching before the man appeared by Alyss' elbow. One look at the grizzled Ranger's face was enough to send Alyss' heart plummeting. "How is he?" she gulped anxiously as Halt hesitated, and Alyss felt her heart stop as he didn't say anything. "Halt?" her voice was soft and anxious as she looked at Halt, who seemed to be a world away.

"He woke up earlier," Halt began, his voice flat and Alyss realized how hard it was for Halt to sit by helplessly. The Ranger seemed to push away all emotion as he continued, his words breaking the hope Alyss had begun to feel, "But he soon began to cough up blood, then he collapsed again. I haven't been able to wake him," his eyes were distant as the Ranger began to turn towards the cabin. Alyss caught his elbow quickly, her eyes narrowing.

"How much have you slept?" her tone dared Halt to attempt to lie to her, and the Ranger hesitated. That was enough for Alyss, "Go sleep," she commanded, regally entering the cabin. She was familiar with it, having dined in the cabin many times with Will. _Will… _the name hurt to think. "I will watch over him."

One of Alyss' men-at-arms hesitated from outside the cabin, and Alyss gave a sigh. She had forgotten about him and his companion until now. "I will be here for a while." Alyss told the two of them, then hesitated. "You may either stay at Redmont, or return to Lady Pauline."

The two men exchanged a glance, and bowed their heads, "My lady," they mumbled. "With your leave, we will stay at Castle Redmont." Alyss nodded, considering something warily.

"Give the Baron this message," Alyss reached into her satchel, pulling out a scrap of paper and writing a few hasty words down. Quickly, she folded the paper and stamped it with her seal, hanging it to Vaughn, the senior of the two men. When Vaughn pocketed the message Alyss raised a hand in farewell then reentered the cabin, taking a deep breath as she heard them ride away.

Alyss took a trembling breath as she gently nudged open Will's door, her strength faltering as she saw the small, pitiful figure curled in the bed. "Oh Will," she let out her breath in a sigh, taking note of the chair by Will's bed and giving a small smile. It seemed that Halt hadn't left Will's side except when necessary. Alyss went over to the beaten chair and sank down in it, her head resting in her hands as she watched Will.

"What have we come to?" she murmured, reaching out a hand to place it on his cheek. It pained her to see the vigorous and courageous man brought so low by an assassin who hadn't shown his face. Alyss tried to connect the boy who had been so eager and full of life throughout their childhood with the man who appeared to use all his energy to take in a shuddering breath. _"Damn it_," she whispered, _"Damn Ít, Will_," she repeated, her eyes flashing. "You are going to live, got it?" she snapped furiously, fury swelling in her. Just has quickly as it appeared, it left, leaving Alyss drained as she began to cry beside the man she feared would never wake.

The door squeaked as it opened several hours later, causing Alyss to jerk upright and glare at Halt. "I told you to rest," she snapped at her mentor's husband, but she fell silent as he crossed the room and pulled another chair across the floor sinking down into it beside her.

"What was in the message for the Baron?" Halt asked quietly, his eyes watching Will as he broke the silence.

"A request for a healer," Alyss responded just as quietly, her voice strained.

"A healer came by yesterday and said there was nothing he could do," Halt's eyes narrowed dangerously as he spoke, and Alyss gave a sigh, mentally thanking the fates that there wasn't a moat nearby. Halt would have been beside himself when he heard that piece of news.

"I asked specifically for Malcolm," a hint of pride flashed through Alyss' voice, and Halt glanced at her. The look on his face caused Alyss to check her enthusiasm, because she felt that Halt wasn't about it give her good news.

"Malcolm is over a week's ride away. It would be two weeks before he could reach here," Halt pointed out, and Alyss sighed, feeling her balloon of hope popping.

"I have to try, don't I?" Alyss murmured, glancing away with her head lowered. She knew it was a long shot, but she had to try to get a healer, any competent healer, to see Will. "Lady Pauline wanted me to give this to you," Alyss reached into her satchel and drew out a folded letter. Halt took it from her, and Alyss found herself watching Will again as until she and Halt spoke at the same time.

"Pauline believes she knows who attacked Will-"

"-Halt, I think I've seen this poison before."

**A/N-2: Merry Christmas!**

**Yeah, basically in short terms: Alyss got news of Will poisoned, Will woke up, collapsed again, needs to tell Halt who attacked him, and they're in the cabin Will grew up in as an apprentice. Any questions?**

**Oh yeah, I know there wasn't much Will-angst, for you sadists (ahem, I'm the same as you, I hurt the ones I love) but its **coming** alright? This is the calm before the storm, so to speak.**

_Thank you to the following reviewers: Gun Toten Girly _linguisticsrock _hazelbunny _RoMythe _Herz Von Silbur _Esmeralda Diana Parker _Pendragon. P a s s i o n (for both reviews) _Dawnfire17 _thedarkscareslittlekids _aslanspheoenix

Please review, and I'll get the next chapter out quickly (before New Year's Day if I get at least 12 reviews!)


	4. The Stirring of the South

_The cat purrs, it's whiskers twitching happily as it rolls onto it's back, tail twitching. The reviewers gaze upon it's soft fur, giving a soft "awww" sound._

_Behind the reviewer's back, LF slinks in near the back, white flag waving overhead._

_They catch sight of her, and she runs._

**Disclaimer: Nah, don't own. Did I mention I like hurting Will?**

**Chapter Dedication: To all those who have been wondering what Horace is up to...**

**Author's Note: A little anti-climatic, but these two POV's don't stick well. If you want my sad, pleading explanation, please see my final author's note.**

_A QUESTION OF HONOR_

_Chapter Four  
"The Stirring of the South"_

Pauline's message had been urgent, sent as a warning to the knight. Will's poisoning had been immediate. Both events that had caused those two things were out of Horace's control.

But this was.

Times like this alarmed the knight, when he allowed the anger to provoke fear in the helpless stranger in front of him. No- this stranger wasn't helpless, Horace reminded himself.

He was a servant of the night.

The Oakleaf Knight shifted slightly, moving his knee just enough to cause his sword hilt to become apparent to the servant's view. It was a casual gesture, one Halt had spent hours drilling into Horace. _Alarm your enemy without making it look like you're trying. Be casual, and it only frightens him more._

"The other night you didn't seem willing to talk to me," Horace began, remembering words Halt had told him to speak in the past. Horace paused as he altered them slightly, his eyes not falling on the small, weasel-like man before him, but instead roving the tables around him. "Too many witnesses perhaps? Or too little?"

The weasel- Horace had difficulty thinking of him as anything else- flinched and widened his eyes. He was terrified now, but Horace realized something was amiss. The man's fear seemed to grow as Horace ignored his indecision, but then the cause of that terror became evident.

The weasel fell to the ground, gasping for breath as a stain of blood became apparent on his clothes, the gleaming metal of an iron blade still embedded in his back.

Just as casually as Horace had been acting moments before, a man, tall and dark-attired, slid into the seat across from Horace, his face twisting as he beheld the young warrior. The tables had turned.

"I heard you're looking for news on the events in the south," something about this new stranger _screamed _distrust. Horace narrowed his eyes slightly, and gave the smallest elevation of the head.

_Game on._

* * *

Pauline rose reagally from her chair, looking down at the assembled nobles. Her eyes flickered briefly as they squabbled, then narrowed slightly as a cool smile slid onto her face. "Quiet," she ordered, her well-trained voice slipping through the room.

"You know why we are here," she stated simply, giving Crowley a reproaching look as he rested his grimy boots on the centuries old table. "We are here because rumors of Morgarath have reached our ears."

"Morgarath is dead," Baron Ergell, the Lord of Seacliff, snapped, crossing his arms as he glared first at Pauline, then at Crowley, who very obviously crossed his right boot over the left and quirked a single eyebrow at the noble, who remained silent. Wise of him, Pauline thought.

"Dead as a doornail," Crowley agreed cheerfully. "I'm not-" the Ranger glanced at Pauline and edited what he was about to say. "Refuting that. But the fact remains- rumors of Morgarath not heard in years are spreading like wildfire."

"He's dead Crowley!" One noble stood and slammed a fist on the table, his face flushing with fury. Pauline saw Baron Arald wince at the damage at the king's table. "You're stuck in the past. You can't stand the failure and shame of letting a half-bit apprentice warrior kill a feared warlord! You want to reaffirm your position as a warrior. But you can't though- you're too decrepit and senile to even let a younger Ranger, or a knight, take your place."

That was going too far, Pauline noted. Even _she_ felt the urge to banish the noble from the room instantly. Pauline cleared her throat, drawing the table's attention as she caught her bearings and smoothed away any hint of anger.

"Gentlemen, Council," she swept through the room so that she stood before the elevated platform, looking easily down at the long table that seated the war council. "Are we children so easily turned on each other by the name of a dead man? We are not here to air old grievances, but to unite against an outside threat."

"And what threat is that?" Sir Rodney asked, right on cue.

It was Crowley's turn to preform. Pauline transferred her unwavering gray gaze onto the Ranger's face. Crowley sighed audibly, his eyes mischievous, his face grim. Pauline watched him, amused, as he swung one leg off the table then let the other dusty boot slide off, leaving clear traces of grime behind. Pauline's amusement gathered as the king winced slightly.

"Perhaps I spoke wrongly, my good friends," Let Pauline not be the one to say that Crowley smiled coldly at Baron Ergell, "I believe I should have said Morgarath's monsters, not the man himself. I'm speaking of the Kalkara, of course," Crowley sounded shocked at the flabbergasted expressions, as though the conclusion was obvious to the simplest fool. "You couldn't have thought there were only three, could you?"

Pauline switched her eyes to the King. If he wasn't on board with them, as the more nautical Araluens liked to say, they lost any chance at making a preemptive strike against the warrior who had dredged up a horror they thought they had exterminated. The King looked about to speak, but the indignant noble from earlier piped up.

"The Kalkara. Are you so desperate to remain empowered that you dreg up old legends? There were only three Kalkara, two of whom were slain by your Ranger's, Crowley."

Oh dear. Things were about to get bloody.

If there was any positive thing in the mess, it was that her dear husband wasn't here, Pauline reflected. As firmly rooted in denial as the baron was, it would not be productive to throw him into a moat. Satisfying as it may be, not at all productive.

"My Rangers, I believe you mean, _Baron_. The Kalkara used to be considered legends. Every legend has a grain of truth." The speaker wasn't unexpected, nor entirely unwelcome. Pauline watched wearily as the room's gazes transferred to the king. "However, Baron Ergell raises a valid inquiry. Why have the Kalkara returned?"

Crowley rose in a fluid motion, drawing an arrow from his quiver and walking around the table. On the table lay a large map of the kingdom, which Crowley examined critically. After a long pause, the head of the Ranger Corps stabbed his arrow into the mountains straddling the lower coastline. For a moment, the council was silent then questions erupted.

"Morgarath's Platau?"

"What in the King's good name would they want there?"

"Why are we just hearing about this?"

"How-"

"_Silence_," The King's voice cut through the chatter, causing a heavy silence to fall. "Ranger Crowley, elaborate."

Crowley stood loosely at attention, and if Pauline didn't know better, she would swear her life that he was resisting the urge to grin. He seemed successful however, so his expression resembled the face of a man drinking curdled milk before he sobered.

"Six days ago, Ranger Will Treaty was attacked," Crowley's voice echoed through the room, and a few murmurings spread through the room. Will was mostly well liked, and the nobles seemed aghast at the young Ranger's attack. "He was also poisoned." Crowley watched the room intently as a murmuring spread through the room, the assembled fief-lords whispering anxiously to one another.

"_Will Treaty-"_

_"attacked?"_

_"-by poison. They don't think-"_

"-the Kalkara, were they involved?" Lord Orman's voice, while not as commanding as the king's grabbed Crowley's attention. Looking as though he was slightly seething over the interruption, Crowley narrowed his eyes at the assembly until silence fell once again.

Pauline raised an eyebrow slightly. _Children, the lot of them._

"We believe so," Crowley admitted heavily, and Pauline bit her lip at the admission of vulnerability. The Rangers were normally aware of almost everything going on within the country. If they were only just becoming aware of it, the kingdom was in serious trouble. "The arrow that struck the Ranger Will Treaty was poisoned with the film-like substance that coats the Kalkara's hair."

Pauline bit her lip in surprise. She wasn't the only one astounded by this bold proclamation, even if she was one of the few who concealed her reaction. The room once again began to burst into noise, but the king quickly rose, subsiding the queries and questions.

"I take it he has yet to recover?" the King looked slightly weary, but Pauline doubted any of the nobles would pick that up. Perhaps it was concern for Will, or at the very least, worries over Princess Cassandra's reaction.

"No. He has regained consciousness only twice, and is in no condition to speak to a Council," Crowley agreed, bristling somewhat as he began to speak the rest of his prepared speech. "Sir Horace- I believe called the Oakleaf Knight these days- was sent to speak with a man who may be willing to disclose information. However, his return is not expected for another week."

Perhaps 'speech' was too strong a word. Monologue, maybe.

"Anyway," Crowley gave a lopsided grin. "Our esteemed Halt, no, we're not stopping anywhere-" that was directed to a younger noble, one who looked slightly confused. "-The Ranger Halt. The one who's six feet tall and can kill a bear with a hit to the snout," the noble's expression cleared up then.

Yes, speech was far too strong a word, as was monologue. Ramble?

"-Has a plan of action, a course of resolve, if you may. Unfortunately, none of you need to know that plan, so I guess you'll have to wait like the rest of the plebeians out there. Any further questions, Your Majesty?"

"Dismissed, Ranger Head Crowley." The King inclined his head to Crowley, then to Pauline. "Lady Pauline? Kindly accompany him, and see to it that you have a Scribe record his full report."

Pauline gave a curtsy before following Crowley out, her eyes shadowed as she remained deep in thought. For a while, the only sound was the rustling of her skirts, but then she spoke a single, cutting word.

"Plan?" She asked.

Crowley flashed her a grin, one which she almost reprimanded him for. She restrained herself however, simply because she had known him long enough to be aware of how little good it would serve.

"I'm sure Halt's come up with something, but what he's thought of, I have no idea."

Liar, Pauline sighed, but didn't call him out for it.

"All I know is that he's armed, and riding for the south like a horde of demons is chasing his tail. I'm sure Gilan knows."

"Drop the act Crowley," Pauline told him sternly. She could afford to, in private like this. "What is Halt up to?"

"Officially? He's investigating the man daft enough to launch a strike at the Rangers. Unofficially? I believe he's on the warpath."

Oh dear, Pauline reflected. Hopefully Halt didn't do anything too darastic.

Her hopes weren't overly high though.

**A/N: Run from the chapter that reads like the piece of shit it is! I'm looking for a pre-reader, so if you're willing to let me know what you think of my chapters ahead of time, let me know.**

**Erm, pardon my friends.**

**Explanation: Sick. Regionals. Sick. Make-up work. City Championships. Sick. State. English class. Then update. Thus the lack of update. Sorry? -runs from flowerpots being thrown- But honestly, most of this was composed with a 100+ degree + fever, so it might make no sense. Should I go back over and edit this?**

_SonicTeamCE _thedarkscareslittlekids _Pendragon P. a s s i o n _Esmeralda Diana Parker _RoMythe _Anaduri _Gord and V _Herz Von Silber _IsabellaLynette _Moonfrost127 _DeltoraQuestLover _Shadowfire2397 _Cheerfully Blue _dolphin12145 _Joyous Red Gummybear _SpazyTyper _fairyberry _Eline

_And to the gal who left an obnoxious anon review that was therefore deleted: (LaughterKills101) _Fanfiction is not my life. I try to update as much as possible, however, I appreciate it if you understand the distraction of Doctor Who, as well as the demands of an all-Honors schedule. I also have work, just got through with swimming, and while I appreciate your eagerness for a new chapter, _if you want to talk to me, I appreciate the use of an actual account, _so I can speak with you in private instead of posting this on here.

NEXT CHAPTER:

We get to see Papa-bear Halt, distressed Gilan, and some Will-whumpage. And perhaps another cameo by Horace.

Updates will be MONTHLY: I swear on my blood. Even if I have to stay up until midnight the last night of the month.

POLL: Please vote on my profile on pairings- and no, they will NOT be mushy, if I put them in at all. It's a "Just in Case" idea.

CROWLEY BEHAVIOR EXPLANATION: I love that guy. He might seem a little OOC, but that's how I see him- balances out grim ol' Halt. I imagine him wanting to play up the drama, for a little politics. He needs the backings on this he can get. But he's also downplaying the drama, as will be revealed... besides, who said he had to tell the public _everything? _Dear old Crowley's acting the fool so they don't realize what's going on behind the scenes.

BARON ERGELL: He's the idiot Seacliff noble that nearly got the fief slaughtered in book 5.

PAULINE'S POV: Never again. Too much structure in her speech.

MY BLOG: Whenever I feel like an updates taking too long, I post an excerpt on my blog for y'all. The links on my profile for when you get impatient. ALSO! I post outtakes, quotes, and chapter info on there for fun.

Please review? If only so I know you either despise me/forgive me.

Whoa. That was a long A/N.


	5. Shadow Called

This is a little awkward, isn't it? *slinks in* Didn't mean to take this long, but I couldn't satisfy myself on where to cut myself off so it feels a little sudden.

___Disclaimer: Not mine_

___Excuses for lack of update at the end._

___A sloppy chapter, but please enjoy and review!_

___Dedication: Herz Von Silber and DWM Wolf_

_A QUESTION OF HONOR_

_Shadow-Called (a.k.a. Falling Into the Black)_

Was everything supposed to hurt? Will had a feeling the answer was no.

He felt trapped- trapped in his own body, his own mind. He could distantly feel someone, or something, putting weight on his chest, but that was about it. Days blurred to him, and he could not wake.

He tried, yes, he always tried. Will knew it was stupid- to him, it felt like every time he tried to open his eyes, he sank a little more into the darkness. Fading, barely surviving, but still, _alive_.

Breath in, breath out.

Everything hurt, he was aware of that. Yet he couldn't seem to care, even when he felt like every nerve, every pore was shuddering with the urge to surrender, to give in, to spit out that last bit of liquid poured into his mouth to keep him alive. He was like a leaf in the exploding wind, thrown by it's dictate. He was a fading light, swallowed by the darkness.

It would be easy, so, so easy to just let the black take him, to fall into the black. He couldn't exist forever though, had his time come?

Will was a fighter though- never one to roll over and take a punch without punching back. Even as another wave of agony, another urge to just _let go, _to _drift away_ poured through him, he gritted his teeth.

Halt. Alyss. Evanlyn- no, _Cassandra_. Gilan. Each and every one of them someone close to him. He had a duty, and he couldn't drop it yet.

Will fought. He had a feeling that they might need him in the future, even if it was just one determined man, scarcely more than a boy.

Breath in, breath out.

Will rode the waves of consuming pain, even as his body began to shut down, even as he began to dream.

* * *

Some distance from the cabin, two riders drove their mounts fiercely, unforgiving. Each of them were chasing something.

The rider closer to the cabin gently urged his horse to an increased pace as he saw the clear hoof prints in the ground. The man he was chasing was just a day ahead of him.

"Damn it, Halt, why didn't you wait?" Gilan muttered, clucking to Blaze. "Come on, girl, just a little further."

Gilan bit his well-gnawed lip, his eyes on the dog racing by his side, as he found himself working quickly through the circumstances of Will's shooting in his mind.

Why Will? Why one of the youngest Rangers? He was intelligent, yes, but was intelligence enough to draw Halt's wrath upon whoever had committed the offence? Was it personal, or…

_Halt's wrath. _That was a thought. Perhaps it could have been exactly that- designed to draw Halt's wrath upon him. But who could be so stupid? Only someone with nothing to lose and everything to gain would have done that.

_But who? _

Gilan found himself immersed in thought as the perspicacious Ranger allowed Blaze her head. His mare was wary enough for the three of them, and it had been a long time since he had been this alone.

This lead that had been dropped into their laps by Horace might very well be just that- a lead with the other end of it chewed off. While the knight had been successful in the past, he also had been prone to chasing after dead ends in the past. However, when a simple report that a man who had been seen speaking with Will lately would be practically on Gilan's doorstep, the Ranger couldn't resist.

Beside Gilan and Blaze trotted Ebony, her tail drooping slightly as she followed the Ranger and his horse. While Alyss was left alone to care for Will, Ebony accompanied Gilan so the burden to caring for him would not fall on Alyss. While she was more than happy to care for Tug, Ebony, and Will, Gilan presumed that sooner or later, the stress would cause her to snap.

"Ebony," Gilan told the dog and caught her attention. She barked once, her small body oddly contrasting with her long legs. She was a puppy yes, but she was growing by the day. "Scout," he commanded, and instantly she faded into the background like she had been taught to do, her fur barely showing in the undergrowth.

If something was after the Rangers, and not just Will, Gilan didn't want to get the dog involved.

Gilan heard laugher and good cheer in the air as he turned a corner in the forest path several hours later. The Ranger instantly readied his sword, narrowing his eyes as the inn came into sight.

It had an unassuming manner actually and hardly looked like the place an assassin would be lurking in. Instead of being dark and quiet, enclosed by solitude, it was cheerful, its door flung open as a pair of men sparred in the midst of a ring of onlookers. A clean stable sat nearby the grounds, a meadow sheltering a pair of palomino horses that grazed within the enclosure. On the side bordering the forest, a large man stood, stroking the muzzle of one of the horses that seemed to relish his presence.

Gilan reined in Blaze as he stood above the inn , his eyes watching for any movement that might signal a poisoned barb flying his way. He relaxed marginally however, and gave Blaze a small nudge to signal her to move forward as he whistled for Ebony.

The pup bounded out of the woods, her tail waving overhead as she wiggled her entire body in excitement. She looked slightly winded, a fact only to be expected, for the endurance her breed possessed would not come until she was older.

Gilan made sure his sword was near at hand as he dismounted Blaze in front of the inn. As he checked her hooves carefully for any rocks or brambles, he heard movement behind him. Ebony gave a small wuff as Gilan turned to see the innkeeper rushing out of the inn.

"Welcome sir!" The man crowed, bowing to Gilan quickly. "Are you here to stay the night? We have a minstrel with us if you wish for entertainment, and dinner will be on in an hour. Call me Barliman."

Gilan gave a small nod of the head, adjusting the hood of his cloak slightly as he pretended to think. His sharp eyes darted over the inn once more, and he finally decided that Blaze deserved the rest after the long day.

"Mister Barliman, I think I will rent a room for tonight. I require one that is upstairs or at the end of a hallway," Gilan watched the innkeeper stiffen, but the man didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"I think that can be arranged," the innkeeper said quietly even as he took a small step back. "If you wish to follow me, your horse and dog will be stabled for the night. It's four shillings for a night and two if you wish for us to stable your horse at night."

"Four shillings then, if there is no pasture charge," Gilan smiled cordially at the man as he passed over the small coins before he glanced at Ebony. "I can care for my dog If she is allowed in my rooms, and I prefer to care for my own mount."

The innkeeper nodded jerkily, said a few brief words about the Ranger finding him when he was done caring for Blaze, and retreated quickly into his inn. Gilan could practically hear the words the innkeeper must be thinking.

_Rangers are a strange sort._

* * *

Gilan went straight to his rooms after speaking once more with the innkeeper. Blaze was well-cared for, and he had no wish to mingle on a night like this.

Instead of speaking to the patrons like he normally would, Gilan sat in his small room, drawing up plans of besieging castles. His dark mood only soured further when he found himself thinking about the approach Will had taken in the past.

Angry, Gilan tossed his bottle of ink aside and drew his sword, staring down at the well-tempered steel as he grasped it in his right hand. Tiredly, he swapped it to his left, his less-dominant hand, and began to pivot, performing an old sword exercise he hasn't used since his early days of training. It was designed for a knight to use, but was meant for a lighter sword than he was carrying.

He pushed himself like he rarely did anymore, pushed himself until his arms were trembling with exhaustion. He hadn't felt the need to punish himself like this lately. It was dangerous to work until he felt like his arms were begging to rip themselves from his sockets simply because if his arms wanted to drop off, he probably wouldn't be able to shoot his bow straight.

Glancing at Ebony, Gilan got an idea.

"Ebony, guard," he told her as he sheathed his sword and pulled a practice sword from his bag. He lunged quickly at her like an enemy swordsman would do, and she leapt aside quickly, a low growl coming from her throat.

Soon it turned into a game- Gilan would leap forward, trying to lightly tap her, and Ebony would leap aside or gently grasp his wrist in her teeth. The dog's reflexes were astounding, and Gilan found himself pressed to keep up with her boundless energy.

At last the Ranger flopped to the ground and placed his practice sword aside. The floor was clean, so he had no qualms on lying down dramatically, closing his eyes until he felt a cold nose nudging against him.

"Defeated by a dog," he groaned and Ebony gave a small bark as he opened his eyes. She was wagging her tail so hard that she nearly fell over, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she panted slightly. The Ranger gave her body a small stroke as he sat up to begin his stretches before he rubbed lotion on his aching muscles and headed downstairs, Ebony trotting at his heels.

"Decided to join us?" The Ranger glanced to the side as the innkeeper grunted in his direction. Gilan gave him a small smile and a nod before ordering a pint and finding a table in the corner for himself.

It was only then a man approached him quickly, his small frame hurrying towards him like it was a relief to see him.

"Did Will send you in his place?" The man asked quietly, sitting across from Gilan as he took a drink from his own pint, staring down at his distastefully.

"Will?" Gilan found himself blindsided as the man examined Gilan's cloak.

"Will Treaty? Ranger? I've been gathering information for him for a few months in the north. There's been some unusual disturbances that he wanted someone to investigate for him," The man explained, his eyes watching Gilan carefully.

"What's your name?" Gilan asked, leaning his chair back slightly as he realized something about this northern stranger was familiar.

"Malcolm," was the response he gained. "Ranger Treaty is a friend of mine. You are?"

"Gilan," the Ranger murmured, taking a small sip of his drink as Ebony shifted by his feet and emerged from under the table. "Earlier this week, Will was-"

The man cut him off, standing quickly. "Has something happened to Will? Why is Ebony with you?"

"Sit," Gilan ordered coolly, thinking of Halt. Malcolm sat immediately, seemingly unaware of his unquestionable obedience when it came to Gilan's order. "Will was attacked and poisoned several days ago by an unknown assailant." If this was the man Gilan thought it was then…

"I'm a healer, is there anything I can do to help?"

_And the plot thickens... Actually, I should be saying that next chapter. Shh... my lips are sealed._

_Good News:_

_Next chapter is almost finished, just needs to be typed up. Halfway into the chapter after that. I know where I am going with this, and almost have the epilogue completely typed out. I imagine this to be between 15-20 chapters, with range in there for fillers if I need them. Next chapter will probably be posted over Easter. :)_

_Bad News:_

_An Inheritance Cycle fanfiction idea came and slapped me in the face so I'm going to be splitting my time between the two. And my birthday, brother's graduation, father's birthday, grandparent visit, exams, friend's sisters wedding, and grandpa's birthday are all happening in the same week in May so no update around the 20th. Oh... I've become Supernatural obsessed. _

_Excuses Section:_

_Oral surgery. IV. Homework. LotRO. Supernatural. Nuff' said._

_Please review, and feel free to slap me with a cold fish. (waaay too much time around Ysera now.)_

_And our mystery assassin appears next chapter. :P Chapter preview there._

_Thank you for reviewing: _EMachinesCat, _athena2517, _fallenangel9413, _runningwithhorses, _Herz Von Silber,_ LeDragonQuiMangeDuPoisson, _Katharine, _Dragon-Wolf-Mustang Rider, _Cheerfully Blue, _Shadowfire2397, _Miku Alli, _3LW00D, _RoMythe, _Alyss Mainwing, Esmerelda Diana Parker._


	6. Swordplay and Other Trickeries

_All I have to say, is that FFNet refreshed on me halfway through the chapter and I lost everything x.x_

_I had a beautiful scene at the beginning and it's lost in the vortex of the internet. So I moved that scene to next chapter, and wrote this one on a whim. It's a gamble, I'll give it that, but the characters wouldn't have it any other way._

_You're going to be annoyed with Gilan after this, but there's a reason to all of this... "circles within circles, after all"_

_A QUESTION OF HONOR  
Chapter Six_

_"Sword Play, and Other Trickeries Not Worth Mentioning" _

The horse rolled contentedly under his weight, used to bearing his lithe form.

He liked animals, and that was perhaps the only thing he liked. It wasn't an odd occurrence for humans to hate him on sight, so perhaps the simpler organisms comforted him when they did not judge him. Only a few animals he met ever hated them, and those were the ones that served the blasted Rangers.

His face, when not disguised under actor's props or hooded clothing, was a tapestry of pain. It was disfigured, he knew, with its roped scars and terrible burns, but he did not care. He rarely showed his true face these days, for he was judged on sight when he revealed himself. On his back, where two swords would commonly sheath themselves, was a heavy pack, burdened with random plants he had shoved in their when he overheard the healer and the Ranger.

_Sloppy of the Ranger,_ his mind thought as he remembered hearing the carefully laid plans. The man had not noticed the supposed drunk keeping a closer eye on him then any drunk man would be able to, and the Ranger- Gilan, his name was- would paid dearly for that error.

The tracks lead to the south, and to the south he would go.

The hunter opened the packs and pulled out his concealed weapons. The pack went to the horse's saddlebags, while he sheathed the swords. Calmly, but as silently as a wraith, the man dismounted gracefully.

"Linriel," he murmured to the steed, his native tongue harsh and grating. The horse whickered quietly, but the man did not acknowledge her noise. "Keep walking in this direction."

Just in case she did not understand his directions, he patted her on the rump, causing her to move forward once again. The man's tired eyes watched her movements, but when she vanished from view, he quickly pulled into the undergrowth and followed the trail.

The harsh shadows of twilight caused his passing to be unnoticed by any encamped travelers on the road, but still he did not dare allow noise to come from him. The Ranger had to be somewhere around here, for the tracks were appearing fresher.

Before him, he heard Linriel whinny, her voice calling for her master. The man's eyes darkened, and he knew what she was telling him. She had found the Ranger.

The foreigner ghosted forward until he could see the horse's grey coat among the trees. A man had caught her bridle, and he stood there, gently speaking to her. She calmed readily enough, but refused to budge from her place.

The assassin, not by his choice, but by unfortunate circumstances, ghosted forward carefully. He knew that the Ranger would sense him soon enough, but he had to get close enough as possible before that unfortunate happening. His feet placed themselves carefully on the forest floor, avoiding pitfalls and traps. His dark brown eyes were hyperactive, constantly flitting from place to place, flighty as a startled bird.

His swords remained near at hand, but he did not reveal the blade quite yet. Any refracted light would startled the man, and no chances could be taken. It was a pity his crossbow had been shattered by a stumbling drunkard, but his swords could serve well enough. It was well known that Rangers did not learn swordplay- probably an arrogant consideration of the fine art below them. He did not mind their condescending attitude however, for it only helped with his task.

The Ranger took a half-pace away from the mare, and it was then that the man struck with blinding speed.

Like a pouncing jaguar, he flew forward both blades unsheathing with the sound of silver music. He expected the battle to be over with a single stroke- the swords were coated with the same crippling poison that infected the youngest Ranger. One blow would paralyze the man enough for another strike to finish him off.

He hated this cowardly art of shadows and stealth, but he had little choice in the matter. Death was his only avenue.

The attacker flinched back as his swords jarred and found himself staring with disbelief at the Ranger. The Ranger seemed grimly amused at the look of shock, but that did not stop the king's man from responding with a blow of his own.

"Who are you?" Gilan asked, and the assassin danced away as their blades unlocked, surprise still warring in his features. The ambusher found himself the ambushed, for the Ranger did not wait for a reply but drove himself forward in a swift attack. Both men evaluated the other's strength with approval, but neither seemed willing to risk themselves to try for a deciding blow.

Their feet were light as they circled each other, blades in both hands. The attacker held his two swords firmly in hand, while the Ranger Gilan had little other than his sword and a thin bladed knife.

The Ranger was swift, the man had to admit as he leapt away from a blow that would have sliced the tendons in his left hand. He also played for keeps, he realized as he blocked a strike intended for his throat. He ignored the Ranger's prying questions for now, even if he were to release the information the Ranger would be dead in a few moments.

However, despite his best efforts, he could not get through the horseman's impenetrable defenses. Every time he thought he saw an opening, the man would simply dart to the side or block with frightening ease. He had been ill informed it seemed. _Some Rangers do appear to carry a blade._ If he had the breath to spare, he would have growled.

The Ranger had no such reservations about wasting his breath. Every couple of seconds, the unusually chatty Ranger would comment on something- his sword form, or his stance would be called into question. It was annoyingly distracting, as well as incredibly childish. He felt his eyes narrow irately at his target, but nothing served to dissuade the man from his prattle. "You know," The Ranger said conversationally, and he felt his eyes flicker to the man's face. "You should watch how you move your left foot when parrying. It never moves back far enough, so someone could do something-"

The assassin grunted as he realized the Ranger's intentions. He barely had time to leap back before the Ranger threw his blade at his feet. The blade did not go to where his left foot had been however, but where Gilan had anticipated it to be after he moved it.

"-Like that." Gilan said, and used the man's momentary distraction to land a long scratch on the man's forearm.

"Point taken," the man grunted, his first words said to the Ranger. The Ranger looked momentarily surprised, but that did not stop him from locking his saxe knife and sword around the man's. To the pair's astonishment, the assassin's blade snapped and sent the jagged piece of metal into the man's forearm.

The assassin paled at a remarkable pace, and he instantly leapt towards the mare, struggling to reach her as he felt the burning pain and familiar numbness begin to steal into his blood. He staggered, and fell, the compound causing his breath to hitch in his throat as he tried not to writhe in agony.

When he tried to rise back to his feet, he found Gilan's sword at his throat, the point touching the center with a steely resolve.

"Now it is time for you to tell me your name."

* * *

Gilan watched the pale man shudder, his eyes slightly glazed over. He had noticed the strange sheen to the blade, and his vague realization had been confirmed. This man had come with the intent to poison him, and he had a feeling he was more than connected with Will's attack.

"Einaar," the man grunted reluctantly, but Gilan saw the lie before it formed in his eyes.

"Your real name, if you please."

It seemed as if the man tried to resist but a compulsion forced the words from his throat. "Aranhil. Aranhil, son of Baran."

Gilan watched the man struggle to breath, and he saw the pain in his eyes. The man's hand was clenched around the thin line of blood that his own sword had drawn forth, as if he thought that squeezing the wound tight enough would banish his pain. Gilan saw the heaving chest, and felt the slight stirrings of pity.

"Do you have an antidote upon you?" Gilan asked, and the man's trembling arm raised to point at the strange mare's saddlebags. The Ranger cursed as he realized his suspicions were right, and he darted over to the bags, rummaging through them.

"R-red vial."

The Ranger located the glass hurriedly and returned to the man on light feet. He returned to Aranhil's side and crouched warily, his eyes on the heaving man.

"Did you poison the man Will Treaty?" When it did not seem as if he would reply, Gilan pulled away and stared coldly at the assassin. "_Speak!_"

Hatred burned in the man's eyes, but he saw no point in resisting. "Yes."

Gilan blinked, surprised at the apparent ease that he had found the assassin. A harsh emotion stirred in Gilan, and the Ranger raised the bottle to his eyeline.

"Is this the antidote to Will's poison?"

Aranhil was still for a moment, his eyes on the poison as his body convulsed. He gave a low moan of pain, seemingly too paralyzed with pain or poison to speak.

Gilan gave a sigh and raised the vial to the man's lips. Aranhil gave a low grunt as his shaking halted and his eyes closed in relief. It seemed as though the relief was instantaneous, but it took a few moments for the man to compose himself.

"Yes," the man rasped, his arm sweeping to the side to send the vial spinning away from Gilan. It impacted the ground harshly, and shattered, precious droplets soaking into the ground.

"Ranger Gilan," the man said tonelessly. "My _employer,_" his words were unusually cold at the word, "wishes to have words with Will Treaty. If he wishes to end his pain, and perhaps spare his lady the pain he's going through, he will meet me here seven days from now."

"He could not survive the journey!" Gilan snarled helplessly, but Aranhil's eyes glimmered with a dull amusement as he went to his saddlebags.

"Give him this. It is another dose of the poison, but it will not kill him. It is not merciful as such, to kill its victim outright. It will prolong the victim's life," was that a trace of regret in the man's eyes? Surely not, Gilan thought as a small crystal vial was tossed gracefully towards him.

_How do you know of this? _the question died on his lips, simply because he doubted no answer would be given to him.

The man turned away, swinging gracefully onto his mare's back despite his apparent shakiness from his near poisoning. "Your healer will be of no use," he said simply. "But if I may make a suggestion, I would find your mentor. He is in far, far more danger than a poisoned ex-apprentice."

* * *

_I find myself liking Aranhil so, so very much. :) You will see why soon enough. This was just the beginning of our friend's appearance. But I'm sure some people will say it, so I say it now. Gilan had to too easy :) but there are reasons for Aranhil's apparent willingness to surrender... * ominous music*_

_Thank you to the following reviewers:_

_Dragon-Wolf-Mustang Rider, Cirruz the Night Elf, GodricsRanger, MasterSerina83 (yes, Lotr influence, I must admit), Calcifer0703, Alyee Lanet, Alyss Mainwaring, Esmeralda Diana Parker, Lorraine44._

_All of your comments were very much appreciated. I've been sick for the past three weeks, and have had blood tests, two trips to the hospital, having an Ultrasound tomorrow (No, I'm not pregnant), and have had at least 7 x-rays. Basically put, the doctors are as confused as hell and I'm tired of pain. Bad pain, pain. So if this chapter is a little odd, please see above reason. :)_

_Well, please review for belated birthday, get-well soon present, good luck surviving the doctors, or just because you love me for updating on time (barely, but it still counts)_

_~Lady_


	7. Friendly Interrogations

_Author's Note: _I find that as of now, I have come to the conclusion that I rather strongly dislike my life. In response to that feeling, my writing has been a little rougher, and angrier as of late. (i.e. independent/rebellion Harry fics, Miona torture, etc.) It came as no surprise to me when I sat down and simply _could not write _this story. It was like wading through mud while trying to catch a rabbit with rocket launchers on it. But I _did_ try to write this story, at two o'clock in the morning, and on the way to see doctor's, and even on the way to the hospital, and on the way to my MRI. And this was the result of that chapter. I apologize in advance for any "f's" that do not show up in the chapter, I think I caught them all but may have missed a few- my keyboard has been sticking lately.

Oh yeah. And remember how I said I was sick waaay back in May? I'm still sick. And it's past the ides of July.

Sad me. Sorry about the pity rant.

I have past decided that a few days turns into a few weeks when I'm concerned, so I'll just try to say that I'll do my best to type the next chapter on the plane on Wednesday.

Final warnings! I will be changing my author name soon, to Victoria LeRoux. And as far as I can tell, torture in chapter nine.

_Disclaimer: _Not mine. If it was mine, the tenth book would never have seen the light of day. Ick.

_Dedication: _Shara Raizel

**A Question of Honor  
Chapter Seven**

_"Friendly Interrogations"_

The man sat on the fallen log, his head in his hands. On his knees lay a simple longbow, by his side lay a pack that was nearly empty. Around him, the forest teemed with energy as the nightlife was brought out in the light of the moon. A casual observer may have noted that he was alone, but the man knew that was not the case. He was never truly alone.

A series of hoofprints led away from his, winding back to where he had come from. When he had reached this tranquil clearing, he had sent his mount away from him, back towards home and safety. He felt as though he had brought enough peril to his friends lately.

The man was a mess, from his blood-soaked breeches to his gaunt face. He looked more like a boy than anything else when his face fell into the light. But this man, he was not a boy. He had outlived too many things to ever be called such again. It was his eyes that would correct the casual observer from calling him _young._ It was his eyes that bespoke of pain that could not be survived.

Behind the man, a newcomer emerged, and only verbalized a single sentence that spoke not of surprise, but only of weary resignation. "You came after all, Ranger Will Treaty."

Will Treaty did not turn his head, but instead opened his eyes to see his slightly shaking hands. _Already the poison takes away false strength,_ his mind whispered to him. _Already you begin to fail, to falter once again._ He did his best to ignore the seed of doubt, and instead sighed. "Did I even have a choice?"

"If you do not mind death, you always have a choice," replied the assassin cryptically. If Will had turned, he would have seen the pity dance across his face. Yet the Ranger still had his eyes on his increasingly-shaking hands, and continued to think of his attacker as a faceless monster.

"I prefer living," the words sprang unbidden from his lips, but as were most impulsive thoughts, the statement was true enough. A soft chuckle caused the Ranger to stiffen, but he relaxed momentarily at the next words that broke the stillness.

"As do I," Aranhil's dry tones caused the Ranger to sigh. "But you seem the sort that does not mind dying, if only under the correct banner."

Will stiffened, and whipped around, his eyes suspicious and angry. For a moment, they widened in a startled acknowledgement of Aranhil's grotesque appearance, but when he recovered himself his words were steely and unyielding. "I serve no banner but the Ranger's."

"I have told my _employer_," the word had a mocking lilt to it when Aranhil voiced it, "much the same. But he is ever-so determined to have you serve him in whichever way you consent to, willingly or no. I will tell you this once, Ranger Will Treaty, and I hope you never give me cause to consider repeating it. My employer-"

"Your master, you mean," Will snapped, and Aranhil paused for a moment, eventually inclining his head slightly to the Ranger.

"If you wish to call him my master in some misguided attempt at angering me, you may. In the interest of time, I shall consent to agreeing with you for a brief amount of time. My _master_-" the same mocking lilt as the one that had appeared at the word employer penetrated his tones, "-will break you. He breaks all, eventually, given enough time. He will try you, and test you, and if he has to, he shall shatter you in more pieces than you can imagine."

The Ranger gulped, but Aranhil swept forward, his eyes narrowing as he pushed past Will's comfort level for proximity as dark brown eyes met light hazel.

"He will do everything that is in his power to make you serve him, and there is nothing that is not in his power. He will go after everyone you care for, anything you hold dear. He will break them if he must, because he will believe that to break them is to break you. Do you understand me, Ranger Will Treaty? If you believe that you alone shall not break, know that others have believed the same and fallen readily enough. If you desire a swift death, and mercy, he will not grant it to you." Here Aranhil sighed, and closed his eyes briefly while he appeared to come to a decision. "And if you desire it, and ask it of me, I will grant you that mercy."

The clearing was silent for a few moments, then Will nodded, seemingly overcome with the realization of the events around him. Then the Ranger nodded, eyes thoughtful.

"I will offer the same to you."

Aranhil nodded, but said nothing on the subject, instead gesturing to the mare that stood patiently on the side of the clearing.

"Mount up Ranger, we don't want to be late."

* * *

The ship rolled and tumbled beneath them, the waves around her occasionally sending her pitching suddenly. Aranhil relaxed into the voyage, even when the ship would drop beneath his feet after a particularly large wave lifted the vessel. The waves were a soft comfort to the man, and he closed his eyes as he felt his body roll with the sea.

He wasn't entirely sure why he was this relaxed, after the words spoken earlier between he and the Ranger. He wasn't quite ashamed that he was beginning to consider the Ranger a fool for offering mercy.

Weakness would get someone killed under their master. It was something that would be beaten out of the Ranger soon enough.

Weakness... Despite himself, Aranhil felt a small flash of amusement that caused a smile to tug at his lips. Evidently, being around a host of fools had infected him. If the Ranger told his master about his brief moment of pity, the life he'd struggled so hard to keep would end in a long, brutal fashion.

The quiet hold of the smuggler's was soon broken softly by the Ranger.

"Baransson*," the word hesitated briefly on the man's lips, and Aranhil allowed his head to tip to the side so he could glance at his prisoner.

When it seemed as though Will wasn't going to continue, Aranhil prompted him on with a soft, "Yes?"

"Baransson," The Ranger** repeated, grabbing his faltering confidence once again. Before he could continue, Aranhil could not help but to interrupt.

"My name is Aranhil. See to it that you use it." Aranhil was aware that his tone was slightly frosty, but the name of his father drew his thoughts to the end of the journey, and a conclusion that seemed inevitable.

"Er- Yes, my apologies," Will took a shuddering breath and finally completed his question. "Where are we travelling to?"

Aranhil briefly considered a snarky, not entirely truthful response to the question- _Our deaths, worst nightmare, the land of frolicking flowers and abhorrent alliterations, et cetera- _but settled for the simplest, most truthful but least troubling explanation. "Eira.* it is a decently sized island located off the coast of-"

"Celtica, I am aware, as well as being south of Araluen," The Ranger murmured softly. Aranhil found himself watching the Ranger curiously, wondering what he was thinking. It became evident soon enough, because the Ranger continued with his line of questioning. "What is on the island?"

Aranhil found himself smiling wistfully as he thought of his home. "Rocks and caves. Swyddned abandoned the isle when mining proved to be lacking in profit, and some villagers never abandoned it. It had a thriving community for a time, and was self-sufficient. It was never annexed-"

"-Because King Swyddned and King Duncan found that Morgarath briefly used it as his command point, and thus would drain too many resources to attack," the Ranger stated confidently, and Aranhil found himself smirking.

"Incorrect. My people found that it was useful to foster such rumors to avoid paying taxes."

Aranhil's smirk vanished as the Ranger opened his mouth once again. "How long will the journey take?"

_In the name of Camulos, does he ever stop asking questions?_

* * *

*Baransson is the complied version of "Baran's son". Basically, Aranhil's surname because he's a commoner and all. Gilan told Will the man's name between chapters 6 and 7.

**Aranhil's use of the word "ranger" in his thoughts, rather than Will's name is his attempt to distance himself from what he's doing.

*Eira is an adaptation of the word _Éire,_ a Celtic nation. As the unnamed island I chose is off the canon-Celtica, (see map of Araluen) I decided that a bastardized Celtic name would suit well enough. And I was listening to Enya at the time, and the song playing was entitled "the Celts" soo. Yeah.

*Swyddned was briefly mentioned as being the King of Celtica.

*Camulos is a god of war and sky.

_Final A/N: I deeply apologize for any OOCishness. After rereading book 10, in which characters seemed OOC (and that was canon!) and uncommonly... strange, and it was incredibly lacking in the Rangers, I find it harder to continue to have a firm grasp on the array. However, I am trying to return to book nine's characters, and mine/Flanagan's should reconcile soon (I hope.)_

_Thank you to the following for inspiring me in your loveliness: SharaRaziel, (may I say once again that I love you?) Lovemusic2, (I'll do my best not to disappoint ^.^, and thank you) GodricsRanger, (but... but... loving the enemy is fun) Lilwen, (thank you. :) I did so enjoy writing him, and pain is lovely.) Alyss Mainwaring (I certainly hope I shall live long, be happy, and remain as ugly as ever :)) CheerfullyBlue, (thank you:) I definitely have plans to do so) Xbamsod (there's nothing like a good make-up exam for missing to pile on stress) Esmeralda Diane Parker (Grizzly papa bear time)_

_Thank you all once again. I love you all and appreciate the time it takes for you to review. Sorry about the long A/N and any mistakes once again._

_Next Chapter: Halt is most certainly not happy._


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